


they say don't open old wounds (i've got nothing left to lose)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blow Jobs, Body Dysphoria, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, Insults, M/M, Mission Fic, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:14:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26260228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: He knew that Jack cared about him, maybe even loved him—like a brother obviously, just a best friend—and that he trusted Mac with his life. They’d been through a lot of shit together and Jack always had Mac’s back, there was no question about that. The only thing that didn’t make any sense and hurt more than Mac would like to admit... are the things Jack sometimes said. Whenever they went undercover and Mac had to change into something to go with his cover or if they were just dressing up for a fancy occasion, Jack kind of... commented on it. In not the nicest way.(Or the one where Jack pokes fun at Mac's appearance because denial is a river in Egypt. Alternate title: "jack's a dick".)
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 114





	they say don't open old wounds (i've got nothing left to lose)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I did another informal no-context poll on Tumblr to decide what fic to put together next, and y'all voted for "insults", so here we are! ****There are a couple of things you should know about this fic, the first being it was written after Jack's exit in Season 3, so while Desi makes an appearance she and Mac never dated. The attempted rape/non-con I tagged for is between Mac and an original character, NOT Mac and Jack. Lastly, this was written WAY before we knew that Lenkov was such an asshole and treated Lucas like absolute garbage. We all know Lucas is not only gorgeous but a super awesome dude, and this is fanfic anyway so it has no bearing on real life.**** As always, please let us know what you think and enjoy!
> 
> (Title is from "Old Wounds" by PVRIS.)

Angus MacGyver noticed things.

From the time he was a little kid, he’d always been the kind of person who naturally remembered details about other people. He knew all his mom’s favorite flowers, his dad’s favorite tools, Bozer’s favorite toys, and it didn’t stop there. Birthdays and anniversaries and even the names of people’s dogs got stored in his head, right beside chemical formulas and different ways to build bombs. Patterns of behavior were something he noted too, especially when someone was important to him. He knew every step to Nikki’s makeup routine, for example, and he always would, as much as he’d tried to forget it.

Mac was just naturally a learner... but there was one behavior of Jack’s that had always confused him.

He knew that Jack cared about him, maybe even loved him—like a brother obviously, just a best friend—and that he trusted Mac with his life. They’d been through a lot of shit together and Jack always had Mac’s back, there was no question about that. The only thing that didn’t make any sense and hurt more than Mac would like to admit... are the things Jack sometimes said. Whenever they went undercover and Mac had to change into something to go with his cover or if they were just dressing up for a fancy occasion, Jack kind of... commented on it. In not the nicest way.

At first Mac thought he was being overly sensitive about it. It started happening after they took the job with DXS once they got discharged from the army—whenever Mac had to wear a suit, or even just a tight pair of skinny jeans, Jack would make some snide remark about how flat Mac’s ass was, or how his suit jacket looked like it belonged on a football linebacker. It was always said in a joking tone, but since Mac wasn’t the most confident person when it comes to his looks anyway, he wasn’t laughing. This had been going on for years now, but Mac had never said anything because he was afraid... well, he wasn’t sure what he was afraid of. And it sucked for his self-esteem, but it also sucked because he was surrounded by gorgeous people who all got compliments from Jack on the regular.

Right now Mac was in one of the changing rooms at the Phoenix, putting on the clothes chosen for their next mission. They were supposed to check out a Russian businessman that was suspected of having ties to several terrorist organizations and he happened to like one of the LA clubs, so they were going undercover. Well... Mac was, along with Bozer who was supposed to be one of the bartenders. Much to Mac’s chagrin he was the one that was supposed to blend in with the crowd and discreetly watch over their mark.

As he put on a tight tank top and a tighter pair of jeans, Mac could already hear Jack’s voice in his head, but he pushed it away for now. He glanced at himself in the mirror, ran a hand through his hair. It was getting long again, flipping out at the ends and curling behind his ears. He grew it out mostly because he got tired of hearing how he looked like he was twelve years old from Jack when his hair was short. And as he stood there looking at himself, he found himself picking out every flaw.

His recent foray back into the dating world just made it easier, since the last guy he went out with gave him plenty of cannon fodder: he was too long-limbed and gangly, like a giraffe that never grew into its legs, his fingers were ridiculous in proportion to his hands, and ugly moles dotted the skin of his shoulders and arms. The birthmark on his neck by his jaw stood out, and he rubbed at it self-consciously—he’d never liked how it looked, but he was told if he had it removed there was a good chance it would scar. Sighing to himself, he remembered he had a job to do, so he grabbed the bomber jacket the Phoenix stylist gave him to wear and headed out to meet up with the others.

He was about to round the corner when he heard Jack’s voice up ahead in the corridor: “Damn, Bozer, look at you! I don’t think bartenders are supposed to be stylish, dude—that vest might get you made before our mark even gets in the door.”

Mac stopped in his tracks and then took a few steps back. He leaned against the wall for a moment, breathing in and out a couple of times. There was this sick feeling in his stomach because he knew what was about to happen when he joined the rest of the team. He thought he should’ve been used to it by now, it’d been years, but for some reason... he was thinking more about it today. Probably his recent date’s fault. He took one last deep breath and started walking again, rounding the corner and bracing himself for Jack’s comment.

Everyone turned when Mac walked up to them, and while Mac wasn’t looking at Jack he felt his eyes scanning up and down his body. “Hey, stringbean,” he said, all chipper, elbowing Mac’s side. “Better be careful or you’ll get blown over.”

To Mac’s shame he actually felt tears sting his eyes, but before he could muster a response, he heard a snort—and it wasn’t from Jack. “Are you kidding me, Dalton?” Desi said incredulously, coming over to stand next to Mac and crossing her arms over her chest as she looked Mac up and down too. “He looks good—damn good. He’ll be lucky if he can keep the women in that place off him, maybe some of the guys too.” She smiled at Mac and then... winked, which seemed odd, but he found himself surprisingly grateful for the save.

Mac blinked quickly a few times before smiling at Desi. “Thanks, Dez,” he said, ignoring Jack’s remark. He didn’t know why it bothered him more this time, why it hurt more, but this wasn’t the time or place to think about that.

Everyone seemed ready to go and in that moment Matty walked in. “If you’re ready, the van and the car are waiting in the garage.”

“You good, Boze?” Mac asked, arching his eyebrow and grinning when Bozer nodded enthusiastically, and they all headed down in the direction of the garage.

~***~

Mac felt Jack’s eyes on him the whole ride to the club. They were in the car with Mac driving, so that he could park it closer to the club and Jack could sit in it and be ready if he and Bozer needed help. The van had already dropped Bozer off at the back of the club, and they were waiting for the place to open so Mac could go in. Now that he and Jack were alone, there was this... tension between them, the one that’d been there since Mac came back from Nigeria, before Kovacs was even a problem.

If he hadn’t been so careful to not let Jack know how he really felt about him, Mac would be concerned that he’d figured it out and was trying to decide how to call him out on it. They sat in silence which wasn’t normal—they always used to talk and bicker during stake outs or whatever. Jack being quiet was really unsettling since he literally never shut up and Mac... he missed it, he missed Jack’s rambling. It helped him think during the missions, sure, but he hadn’t realized until Jack left to hunt for Kovacs how much he missed his rambling in their time off too.

“Hey, Mac?” Jack asked after a moment, his voice weirdly hesitant. “You good? You seem... off.”

Mac shifted a little in his seat, keeping his eyes locked on the club doors. His pants were too tight and the jacket was too loose and the whole outfit would be uncomfortable without the knowledge that he looked ridiculous, despite what Desi said to the contrary. “I’m fine, Jack,” he replied absently, forcing his fingers to still where they’d been twisting in his lap. He debated it for a second before deciding that if they were ever going to get back to how they were before, he needed to take a risk. “I was going out with this guy for a little while and it didn’t end well. I guess I’m still thinking about it.”

Jack was silent for a moment and Mac didn’t dare look at him, too scared of what he would see on his face. “That sucks, man, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding genuine, and Mac felt the knot in his stomach loosen a little. He knew all of the tones of Jack’s voice and all of his tells, and Jack didn’t have any problem with him going out with a guy, not that Mac really thought he would. “What do you mean it didn’t end well? Want me to kick his ass?”

That actually made Mac smile, and he glanced at Jack when he did it. “No, it’s okay. He was looking for a casual hookup thing and I wasn’t,” he said, deliberately leaving out what happened after he told Zach that. He looked back at the club and saw the bouncer’s out front, with a few people already lining up to get inside. “I guess that’s my cue. See you in a while.” He slipped out of the car and joined the back of the line, cash already in hand for the cover charge, and decided to check his comm. “Everybody hear me okay? Any sign of Ivanov?”

“All clear on our side,” Leanna said from the van with Desi and Riley.

“Yeah, he’s not inside yet either,” Bozer added as Mac took a step forward in the line.

“The place barely opened, we gotta give the dude a minute,” Jack said, and he was probably right. Ivanov would most likely appear once the club was packed, so that he wasn’t that easily spotted.

Mac got inside without incident, and he headed straight to the bar—it gave him some elevation, and while Bozer was busy mixing his drink Mac could keep a lookout for Ivanov. He scanned the room while Bozer mixed him a banana daiquiri, and then he headed for an empty table in the loft. Before he reached it, however, he was startled by a hand wrapping around his free wrist.

“Angus?” Zach’s voice cut through the rapidly-rising din of the club, and Mac felt himself blanch. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Angus?” Jack repeated, his voice confused and... darker somehow, but Mac barely heard it in his ear as he tried not to panic.

“Zach,” he said, keeping his voice neutral and steady. “It’s Saturday night, I’m meeting friends for drinks.” It was a good excuse and if he needed more to convince Zach, Mac knew that everyone would come in and pretend to be the ones Mac’s meeting, he already heard Desi and Riley getting ready just in case. “Now if you’ll excuse me...”

Mac carefully pulled his wrist free from Zach’s grip, and Zach snorted. “Oh, really? Are you meeting the friend who insults you so badly on the regular that you can’t take a few parting fashion critiques without crying?” Mac froze in place, his fingers so tight around his glass that it creaked dangerously. Zach looked him up and down and shook his head a little, adding, “And clearly you didn’t listen to any of them, Angus, that outfit is atrocious.” He waved him off like he was bored, but Mac couldn’t force his feet to move. “What are you still doing here? Go get a haircut or something. Don’t go too short, though, or you’ll just attract creepy old men.”

Mac’s heart pounded like crazy and he wasn’t sure if everyone else was silent or if he just couldn’t hear them through the buzzing in his ears. He swallowed, gripping his drink even harder to hide the trembling of his hands. “It’s none of your business what I wear or how I look,” he said quietly, hating how weak his voice sounds, but at least it didn’t crack. “It never was.”

“Good for you, sweetie, you managed to dig up some self-esteem from that dumpster fire you call a brain,” Zach sneered, and Mac finally got his legs to work, climbing the stairs to the loft and letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding once he was in a chair.

“What the hell was that?” Bozer asked, and Mac heard the anger in his voice. “You want me to go dump this pitcher of margaritas on him?”

“No, Bozer,” Mac replied, still quiet, and clears his throat. “He’s just a guy I went on a couple of dates with, don’t worry about it.”

He knew Bozer wanted to say more but he bit his tongue, and Mac was grateful for that. After a moment of silence Mac heard the girls start talking about something to kill the time, but what was... worrying was that Jack hadn’t said a word in a while. Mac knew he must have heard everything and without a doubt he figured out that Zach and the guy Mac told him about were the same person. Still, he was completely silent and for some reason that made Mac’s chest tighten painfully.

“Hey, guys,” Riley suddenly said. “Ivanov is about to get inside.”

Mac forced himself to focus, shoving Zach’s words and his worry about Jack’s reaction to them to the back of his head. He could unpack that later when he was alone, maybe punch one of the mirrors in the house until it broke. He spotted Ivanov right away—the dude’s almost seven feet tall and built like a brick shithouse, with fists the size of Christmas hams. He towered over everyone else, and much like Mac did, he headed straight for the bar. Bozer wasn’t the one who served him, and almost as soon as Ivanov had his drink he went for the loft too.

Mac focused on his drink and took out his phone, pretending to read something on the screen. The mission was all about watching Ivanov and observing who he interacted with. There were rumors that he sometimes met with his... associates in this club, so they were hoping to maybe stumble upon one of those meetings. They weren’t supposed to approach Ivanov or interact with him in any way, though Mac was afraid that part of the plan was about to fly out the window because as soon as Ivanov got up to the loft his eyes scanned the tables... and then he headed in Mac’s direction.

“Mind if I sit here?” Ivanov asked, and his voice wasn’t unlike the rumble of a chainsaw. He had a Russian accent (duh) but it wasn’t as thick as Mac thought it might be. He flashed Mac a grin through his beard, surprisingly charming. “I always try to get a table with the most gorgeous person in the room.”

That startled a laugh out of Mac considering... well, everything, and he nodded. “Sure, go ahead.” He didn’t see any option but to play along, so when Ivanov took the other chair at the table he raised his eyebrows, aware of the team holding their collective breath over his comm. “Does that line work for you often?”

“Most of the time,” Ivanov said, grinning at Mac again, and he had to admit, if the guy didn’t like to hang out with terrorists in his free time, Mac would consider him handsome. “I have to admit though, I’m surprised someone like you is sitting all by himself.” Ivanov leaned forward a little, watching Mac curiously. “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Jack,” Mac said, because that’s a thing they do sometimes when they need an unexpected cover identity—take each other’s names. It was the most natural thing to do. He smiled in what he hoped was an endearing, flirtatious way, and stuck out a hand for Ivanov to shake—which he did, grasping Mac’s fingers extremely delicately. “And you are?”

“Viktor,” Ivanov replied, and internally Mac’s a little surprised he used his real name. He was even more surprised when Ivanov brought Mac’s hand up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “A pleasure to meet you, Jack.”

Mac felt himself blush and he bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling too widely. “Likewise,” he said, and when he looked up, Ivanov was grinning again. This was insane, because Mac knew Ivanov was definitely not a good guy, but right now it felt... nice. Mac couldn’t remember the last time someone treated him like this on a date, like he was... like he was actually something special. Mac knew it wasn’t true, but there was this pleasant feeling spreading through him.

“So, Jack,” Ivanov started, placing Mac’s hand on the table... and stroking it with his fingers, the touch making Mac shudder. “You come here often?”

Mac couldn’t help but chuckle at the line. “Actually, this is my first time here,” Mac said, letting that smile he’d been trying to hold back spread on his face. He knew it made his dimples show, like two big craters in his face, but he felt a little giddy and couldn’t help himself. “What about you? See a lot of bald spots when you walk through the crowds in here?”

That made Ivanov laugh, and despite the fact that he knew none of this was real Mac was pleased with himself—people generally didn’t laugh at what he said unless they were laughing at him, so it was nice to make a joke.

“You’re doing great, Mac,” Desi said over the comm, the first time anyone’s spoken in a while. “There’s a guy to your eleven o’clock who keeps eyeing Ivanov—I’m guessing that’s his contact.”

As if on cue, Ivanov reached into his pocket to take out his phone, frowning when he read the message, and then he looked up at Mac, a wince in his face. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I just need to exchange a few words with my friend over there and then I’ll be right back.”

“Sure, go ahead,” Mac said with a smile, and then Ivanov stood up, but much to Mac’s surprise he leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek before walking away. He went to talk to the guy Desi mentioned and Mac managed to sneakily take a picture of his face while holding his phone under the table.

“Okay, I think that’s all for tonight,” Matty’s voice sounded in his ear. “We’ve established it is his meeting spot and we have pictures of his contact, we’re wrapping up for today. Get out of there, Mac.”

Mac waited until Ivanov and his contact were looking the other way and then get up and went down the stairs. He slowly pushing through the crowd in the direction of the exit, not wanting to attract attention, and he was halfway there when a strong arm wrapped around him from behind. “There you are, beautiful,” Ivanov murmured in his ear. “For a minute I thought I lost you,” he added, finishing the sentence with a kiss behind Mac’s ear.

Mac pulled in a careful breath, because while the grip Ivanov had on him wasn’t painful, he was very aware that could change in an instant. To his surprise and shame, he felt his throat close a little when Ivanov spoke to him like that, and he _knew_ it wasn’t real, but... it was nice, to think that someone finds him attractive, that he didn’t always have to be the nerdy, awkward guy that people make fun of. He was in a tough spot now, though—if he rebuffed Ivanov, things could get ugly, and it also destroyed any chance he had of coming back for more surveillance.

He turned in Ivanov’s hold, ready to say he had some kind of family emergency or something, but he didn’t get the chance because suddenly Zach was there, fingernails digging into Mac’s forearm to help him keep his balance since he was clearly wasted. “Knew I’d find you eventually, Angus—drunker I get the prettier you are.” He hiccuped. “Sure you don’t wanna reconsider that hookup.” A glance up at Ivanov. “What did I tell you about creepy old men? Jeez, what is he, forty?”

“Fuck,” Desi and Jack swore in unison, and Mac heard the sounds of the car door opening and being shut—then the sound of Jack running.

“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else,” Mac said, his voice miraculously steady as he arched his eyebrow at Zach, and before he could reply Mac pushed him away, and he got swallowed by the crowd around them.

When he looked back at Ivanov his eyes were darker and his grip on Mac tightened. “So which one is it?” Ivanov murmured darkly into Mac’s ear, and Mac forced himself not to panic. “Jack... or Angus?”

One of his hands slid to squeeze Mac’s ass and before Mac had a chance to reply, Ivanov was dragging him in the direction of the private rooms in the back. It was obvious Mac’s cover was blown, but it seemed Ivanov was intending on fucking him anyway, only now he probably didn’t care whether Mac was on board or not and he would kill Mac afterwards. As soon as they were away from the crowd, Ivanov shoved Mac into a room and slammed the door.

“Man, I can explain—” Mac started, not having to fake the panic in his voice, but he got cut off when one of Ivanov’s fists hit the side of his head. Starbursts of pain exploded in front of Mac’s eyes, and he felt his teeth slice into the inside of his mouth, tasting blood after.

“It is my fault, gorgeous,” Ivanov said, but now there was a sour lilt to the compliment. “I have always been a sucker for a pretty face. Yours will not be so pretty anymore after I am done with you.” Mac stumbled backwards and before he knew it Ivanov pushed him against the well, moving surprisingly fast for someone so huge. He punches him again, hard, and then pins him against the wall, gripping Mac by his jacket. “And as a bonus for making me so damn horny back there with these tight pants of yours...” Ivanov growled, punching Mac in the stomach. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you bleed, and you’re going to enjoy it.”

He punched Mac’s face three more times, and at this point Mac was barely conscious and too dazed to fight back when Ivanov dragged him over to the couch in the corner of the room, pushing him down and straddling his hips. He ripped Mac’s jacket off his body, and then his big hands pawed at the front of Mac’s jeans, and he made a frustrated sound when he realized that because they were so tight they wouldn’t come undone. He swore in Russian and reached under his jacket, opening a switchblade crusted with old blood. The gleam of the blade had Mac panicking, trying to buck him off, aiming a punch at Ivanov’s face that he dodged easily.

He hit Mac again, casually, and blood burbled out of his mouth as he choked on it. He was blind for a second from that hit, and he braced himself for the feeling of his pants being sawed away... but it never came. Ivanov’s weight was hauled off him, and there was a thump that indicated he was thrown on the floor. The sounds of struggle filled the room and when Mac blinked a few times, everything around was blurry... but he would recognize Jack anywhere. And even though Ivanov was huge, bigger than Jack, Jack had the kind of training Ivanov could only dream about, and soon Jack had him on his knees, arm wrapped around Ivanov’s neck... and suddenly Mac realized what was about to happen.

“J-Jack,” Mac breathed out, and he thinks he saw Jack’s head snap in his direction. “He... alive.” Jack pistol-whipped Ivanov—again, Mac couldn’t be sure, everything was blurry—and once Ivanov’s body slumped on the floor, Jack was instantly by Mac’s side. His face was close to Mac’s and he looked at him worriedly, hands hovering above him, afraid to touch him. “Jack, I’m...” Mac started, but then he blinked again, trying to get rid of the black spots in his vision. He saw Jack’s lips move, but he couldn’t hear him, and he felt himself drift away, and with one last thought that Jack will keep him safe, Mac closed his eyes and everything went black.

~***~

A slow, steady beeping was the first thing to reach Mac when he woke up, and unfortunately he knew the sound of his own pulse on a hospital’s monitor quite well by now. He had to work to open his eyes, lashes sticking together, but when he did he could see he was in a darkened room, an IV sticking out of his hand. His face felt puffy and swollen, like it should hurt, but whatever they gave him for drugs seemed to be keeping the pain at bay. There was no one in the room with him, and disappointment flared in his chest—usually at least someone from the Phoenix sat with him in the hospital if Jack and the others were too busy.

His internal clock told him it was late, probably three in the morning or so. What happened at the club came back to him in bits and pieces, and now he wasn’t surprised the team wasn’t there—between everything they heard Zach say and then the thing with Ivanov they probably wanted some distance and he couldn’t blame them. He was lying on his back, but decided to curl up on his side facing the wall, careful not to pull on his IV line. He hated hospitals, his mother died in one, and he’d never been able to stop associating their smell with that.

He didn’t even want to think how awful his face must look, just another thing on the long list of Mac’s flaws. He didn’t know if it was because of the drugs or if he was just too damn tired of pretending like nothing bothered him, but Mac’s vision started blurring with tears. They rolled down his cheeks a moment later and usually Mac would be embarrassed about showing vulnerability like that, but it wasn’t like anyone could see him, everyone went home after the mission, why wouldn’t they? He made sure to stay quiet though, muffling his sobs with his hand, not wanting to alert a nurse that something might be wrong.

After a few minutes, the door to his room opened and someone walked in, and Mac knew these footsteps better than he knew his own. “Mac? Mac, hey,” Jack’s worried voice sounded behind him, and then Jack’s sitting on the edge of the mattress, his hand gently touching Mac’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

And Mac was... Mac was tired, so tired, and he didn’t have it in him to play tough anymore. “Go away, Jack.” Jack’s hand went stiff where it touched Mac, and so did the rest of his body. They joked around and bickered a lot, but even when they were angry with each other—even when Mac was hurt by the things Jack said about his appearance—they never told each other to leave. When Jack didn’t say anything else or move for several seconds, Mac swallowed hard and shrugged his hand off his shoulder, slow and deliberate. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but he just... couldn’t keep pretending. He sniffled and stared at the wall, the tears streaming down his face now. “If you came in here to tell me I’m even uglier now, I already came to that conclusion myself.”

Jack was completely still, not saying anything, hell, Mac couldn’t even hear him breathe. He didn’t really care and just kept crying, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs, and he wished it would stop hurting. Usually, despite Jack’s comments, Jack was always the one thing that brought Mac comfort, that made him feel like everything was going to be alright, but this time... this time Mac didn’t think that was going to work. It seemed like he had reached his limit and after pushing Jack away, without Jack to ground him... Mac didn’t know what to do.

“I’m... Mac, I...” Jack stuttered out, and Mac had never heard him sound like that. So... broken and devastated. “I’m so sorry.”

Mac took in a careful, shallow breath, needing air but not wanting to sob to get it. He curled in on himself as much as he could, because it was all too much: this mess with Jack, seeing Zach again, feeling so good about himself for the first time in so long and then almost getting... raped... by Ivanov. “You’re allowed to think whatever you want,” he said, amazed that his voice was mostly steady. There was a tremor to it that he couldn’t control, but at least the words were understandable. “But... but I just can’t listen to it anymore, Jack. I don’t care if you were... joking around, or if it’s your way of making fun of me. I hear about what’s wrong with me enough from people I try going out with, like Zach. I don’t... I can’t keep hearing it from you too. It hurts when it’s you.”

Jack made a small wounded sound, one that Mac didn’t really understand. “There is nothing wrong with you,” Jack whispered a moment later, his voice breaking, and it... it sounded like Jack was _crying_. “Nothing at all, you’re... you’re perfect.” Mac heard Jack take a shaky breath, but he didn’t move, not believing what he heard. “What I... I should have never... I’m... god, I’m such an idiot,” Jack breathed out, his voice barely audible. “And if I tell you why I acted the way I did, you’re going to hate me if you don’t already.” He sighed. “And it’s what I deserve.”

Mac blinked, more tears spilling from his eyes, although at this point he’d stopped actively crying. “What are you talking about?” he asked, confused, and tilted his body a little in Jack’s direction. Nothing Jack was saying makes any sense, and neither did the fact that Jack’s face was wet with tears, just like Mac’s. Why the hell would _Jack_ be crying over this? Mac was the one who’d been casually insulted by the man he was secretly in love with more times than he could count. He let out a rough laugh. “If I don’t hate you by now, Jack, I must be incapable of it.”

“You may wanna rethink that, because once you hear what I’m about to say you’re never going to wanna see me again,” Jack whispered, and now Mac was kind of scared, because he couldn’t think of anything that bad. Jack shifted a little, turning away from Mac and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands. “You’re... when we joined DXS I was already... it was so much harder to ignore how gorgeous you were when you were wearing your normal clothes instead of the uniform.” Mac’s eyes widened, because... because this couldn’t be happening, it didn’t make any sense. “And... remember one of our first ops? When we had to crash that party? When I saw you in that suit... I almost lost it, so I panicked and blurted out something dumb, I don’t even remember what it was. But it kept you from noticing how I was drooling over you, so after a while... it became a habit.” Mac couldn’t see Jack’s face, but his voice was cracking and it looked like he was still crying. “What kind of person treats someone they love like that?” Jack let out a hollow laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all. “Only me.”

Mac thought back, all the way back to that op Jack was talking about... and he didn’t remember the specifics, but he did recall the way Jack’s eyes had gone wide when he saw Mac in his suit, the way his gaze had trailed up and down Mac’s body before something insulting fell out of his mouth. And the more Mac thought about it, the more instances he could recall when Jack seemed to be nervous before he said something negative about how Mac looked. There was definitely a pattern there, Mac just never picked it out because he was distracted by how Jack’s words made him feel... because Mac was in love with him.

He rolled on his back again, and tentatively settled a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You... love me?” he asked, voice small and vulnerable. He couldn’t believe it, not yet, he needed more information. “Why... why didn’t you just tell me?”

“How could I, Mac?” Jack shook his head a little. “I knew there was no way in hell you’d feel the same way about me. I was sure that you were straight... and even if I’d known back then that you’re not it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing.” Jack rubbed his eyes with his hands, staring ahead. “I knew that if I told you... I would lose you. No matter how nice you would have been about it, it would have destroyed our friendship and I was too selfish to let it happen. And I was so... blinded by the fear of losing you if you ever found out...” Jack trailed off, self-hatred lacing his voice. “That I didn’t notice how badly I was hurting you.”

Mac understood, much better than he thought he would. He slid his fingers (too long, too bony) down Jack’s arm until he reached his hand, and let them rest lightly on the back of it. “I’ve been in love with you for... a long time,” he whispered, and he couldn’t look at Jack while he said it, so he dropped his gaze to the blanket covering his (too skinny, weirdly proportioned) body. “I... I never told you because I thought... well, I thought you were straight. And even if you weren’t, I... I knew you’d never be interested in me.”

Mac glanced at Jack when he made a choked sound, and he saw that Jack turned his head a little and was now looking at Mac’s hand on top of his. While Mac could only see a part of Jack’s face he was shocked to find the expression on his face, because Jack stared at Mac’s hand with so much longing, as if he wanted to hold it, but thought he wasn’t allowed to.

“Mac, I’ve been in love with you since the Sandbox,” Jack whispered, his voice cracking again. “You’re all I’ve wanted for years. God, I really fuck up everything, don’t I?” Jack chuckled bitterly, shaking his head again. “You know, years ago I swore to myself that I would never hurt you, and look how well that worked out? I’ve been hurting you for years.” With the way Jack’s sitting, staring at their hands, Mac saw fresh tears run down his face. “Jack Dalton’s specialty, killing things and hurting his loved ones.”

Mac used his free hand to push the button to raise the head of the bed so he could sit up. He folded his fingers around Jack’s hand, squeezing a little. “You... you made a mistake, Jack,” he said, thumb rubbing over Jack’s knuckles. “And I did, too. I should’ve told you how what you were saying made me feel a lot sooner. And yeah, you hurt me... but that doesn’t mean I can’t forgive you.” He licked his lips, tastes old blood and winced. “And thank you, by the way. For... for earlier, getting inside that room when you did.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Mac, you know I always have your back,” Jack said. “I almost had a heart attack when I heard that little scumbag call you by your name and blow your cover. And then when Ivanov... when he dragged you to that room we could still hear everything that was happening. I was already inside the club when he said he would... And then I saw him on top of you. I would have killed him if you hadn’t stopped me.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes again with his free hand. “And, Mac... don’t you dare try and share the blame with me here. This... this is all on me. And I don’t think I deserve your forgiveness.”

Mac considered that for a moment. “Okay... but me forgiving you isn’t your decision, it’s mine. And if... if we really feel the same way about each other, then I want... I want to try.” He squeezed Jack’s hand again, smiling faintly when he felt Jack’s fingers twitch in his grasp, squeezing back. He thought about it, and since Jack was so honest with him, he should return the favor. “I’ve always had bad self-esteem, from when I was a little kid. I knew I was different from everyone else and I tried not to let it bother me... but some things just got under my skin. I was trying to be tough, I think, but I should’ve known that if you were really my friend, I didn’t need to be tough with you and I could be honest about how I felt when you commented on my looks. So there are some things I could’ve handled better, even if the blame’s on you.”

After what felt like an eternity, Jack finally turned his head to look at Mac. His eyes were full of pain and sorrow, and Mac had never seen that... vulnerable expression on his face before. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he whispered, and Mac was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment. “And I never should have made you think that you aren’t. I know you probably don’t believe me, not after everything, but if you...” Jack swallowed hard. “If you really wanna do this... if you’re letting me stay, I’m gonna spend every damn day trying to convince you.”

Mac smiled again, as much as he could with how swollen his face was. “Okay... I’d like that.” He tugged on Jack’s hand and shifted over on the bed, and after a moment of hesitation Jack sat next to him, their legs pressed together through the barrier of the blanket. The angle was awkward for holding hands, so Jack slipped an arm around Mac’s (too wide for the rest of him) shoulders. Since his hand was freed, Mac touched his own cheek with his fingertips and winced. “Do I even want to know how bad this is?”

“It’s not that bad,” Jack said after a moment, and Mac just gave him a pointed glare. “It really isn’t and it’s all gonna fade eventually. Hey, remember when I got my face smashed into concrete in Italy that one time? I looked _way_ worse than you do now.” Mac remembered that all too well, Jack’s face was basically one big bruise after that mission. ”What matters is that you’re gonna be okay.”

Mac thought of Ivanov’s lips on his skin juxtaposed with the roughness of his hands and that _knife_ and shuddered, he couldn’t help it. “I’m... not sure it’s that easy,” he admitted quietly, sinking further into Jack’s side. He didn’t know exactly what was allowed, but he knew being near Jack was lessening the anxiety trying to crawl up his throat. “He hit me so hard, so many times, I... I was barely conscious. I couldn’t do anything to stop him. If you hadn’t gotten there when you did...”

Jack’s arm tightened around him and he pulled him closer... pressing a kiss to Mac’s hair. “But I did,” Jack said quietly, his voice strained. “I did, and you’re safe. He’s never going to touch you again.” Mac felt Jack take a deep breath, probably to calm himself. “He’s locked up at the Phoenix—thanks to you, if you hadn’t stopped me he’d be locked up in a coffin—and you never have to see him again.” Jack’s voice grew darker and more protective, and Mac... loved that. “I’m also tempted to take care of that little bastard that blew your cover. From what I heard he’s a real piece of work and when you said things didn’t end well with him—yeah, I figured out it was him—I’m assuming it went pretty much like yesterday.”

“More or less, yeah,” Mac said, and he felt bold, slipping his arm around Jack’s middle and squeezing a little. He sighed, resting his head on Jack’s shoulder, careful not to put pressure on his face. As it was, the painkillers he was given through his IV were starting to wear off, and his whole head was starting to ache. “Zach is a jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to die for it, Jack. He’s an asshole I met on Tinder, and I’m never gonna see him again.” A pause. “To be fair, that’s what I told myself when I broke things off with him, but the chances of him blowing my cover on another mission are pretty slim.” He felt Jack breathing against his hair and couldn’t help but smile a little. “If it hadn’t been for him, I probably could’ve gotten a lot more information out of Ivanov.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jack muttered, stroking Mac’s arm with his hand. “Even before your cover was blown, the way Ivanov was holding you and talking to you...” Jack’s voice turned darker again. “I got a feeling talking about anything was the last thing on his mind.”

Mac nodded against Jack’s shoulder, because he had a point, and then he bit his lip, debating if he should tell Jack what was going through his head. “You’re... you’re going to say I’m crazy, but when I was talking to him...” Mac swallowed hard, cuddling more into Jack. “It felt... nice.”

Jack’s hand stilled for a moment, then started stroking Mac’s arm again. “When he was... when he was flirting with you?” he asked, evidently needing clarification, an odd catch in his voice.

“Yeah,” Mac said, shrugging his shoulders. He glanced up at Jack, then back down at his arm where it rested across Jack’s body. “I sounds silly, because I knew it wasn’t real, but... it’s pretty rare that somebody talks to me like that. It felt good.” Jack didn’t reply right away, so Mac swallowed again and kept talking. “It felt good because... it seemed like he meant it, you know? That... that never happens to me, so I... I may have enjoyed it.” Mac felt his cheeks burn in shame, but he needed to get it out. “And while it wasn’t real... it was for him, at least at the beginning when he thought I was just a random somebody at the club. I know it’s stupid,” Mac said quietly. “But like I said, it was... nice.”

Jack cleared his throat before he spoke, and when he did his voice was rough. “It’s not stupid. You’re... goddammit, _I’m_ the one who’s stupid.” He put an exceedingly gentle hand on the underside of Mac’s jaw and tilted his head up so Jack could look him in the eyes. “ _I_ should’ve been telling you how gorgeous you are, every damn day, even if I was just saying you looked good as your friend. But instead I acted like a coward and hurt you instead.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to Mac’s forehead, which was the only part of his face that wasn’t heavily bruised. “I don’t know how yet, but I’m going to make up for all my bullshit, Mac. That’s a promise.”

Mac blinked up at him, his heart beating a little faster. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Jack apparently returned his feelings and actually _wanted_ to be with him, but when he looked up into Jack’s eyes all he saw there was sincerity. “I... I’d say you’re off to a good start,” he said quietly with a small smile. It was quickly followed by a wince though, because his face hurt more and more with every minute and right now even smiling was painful.

As if on cue, a nurse walked into the room to check on him. She didn’t even blink at the sight of Jack in the bed with him, just smiled and said, “I’m glad you stopped pacing in the hallway.” Mac raised his eyebrows—which also hurt—and Jack actually blushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. She checked Mac’s vitals and asked him about his pain, and he was honest with her. She said he could go home with some pain meds, providing that he had someone to stay with him because they were pretty strong.

“I’ll be there,” Jack said before Mac could even open his mouth to ask, and the nurse smiled again before she left to get his paperwork.

“So you... you were pacing in the hallway?” Mac asked after a minute, a teasing note in his voice. Jack blushed again and it may be the most adorable thing Mac’s ever seen. “When I woke up... I thought no one was here,” Mac admitted after a moment, not looking at Jack as he remembered how disappointed and lonely he felt when he saw the empty chairs in his room.

Jack groaned a little, letting his head fall back against the pillows. “God, I can’t get anything right,” he muttered, then said, “I wasn’t... I didn’t know if you’d want to see me when you woke up. But when... when you started crying, I had to come in.” He pressed another kiss to Mac’s forehead before he got up, grabbing the duffel bag sitting on one of the chairs. He pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants, along with a pair of sneakers, all of which Mac recognized as being Jack’s. Seeing the surprised look on Mac’s face, Jack only blushed more. “I has Desi stop by my apartment and grab some stuff,” he explained. “I hope that’s okay. Do you, um... do you need help changing?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Mac said, smiling again despite the pain. He thought about Jack’s question and while there was a part of him that wanted Jack to stay and help him get dressed... he didn’t think he was ready for that. His body was all weird and skinny, and he also remembered Ivanov punching him in the stomach, so he guessed he had a nice bruise there as well. “And no, I’m... I’m good.”

Jack just nodded with a small smile and ducked out of the room to let Mac change. His whole body was achy, and when he stripped off the hospital gown he glanced down—and yep, giant purple bruise on his stomach in the shape of Ivanov’s fist. He put on the clothes Jack left for him, and since he was alone, he lifted the collar of the t-shirt a little and smelled it. Leather and gunpowder and a hint of laundry detergent, just like Jack.

The next person to walk in was the nurse, and she had him sign a bunch of shit before she handed him a bottle of painkillers and sent him on his way. Jack was waiting for him, and as they walked out of the hospital Mac felt Jack’s fingers tentatively wrap around his own. Mac ducked his head a little to hide the smile, but he was pretty sure Jack noticed anyway. When they got to the parking lot Mac immediately spotted Jack’s car and once they got inside, Jack started driving in the direction of Mac’s house. They didn’t talk but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable and for the first time in forever that weird tension wasn’t hanging between them, and Mac’s heart fluttered a little when Jack reached to grab his hand and rested them on the console.

~***~

When they got to Mac’s place, the sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. The house was dark and empty since Bozer moved in with Leanna, so the first thing Mac did once he was inside was open the curtains. He wasn’t going to sleep, he knew that much, but he figured he should at least offer the opportunity to Jack. “If you want, you can crash in my bed,” he said, but Jack just shook his head a little, and Mac could tell he’d been rattled by what happened with Ivanov too. So Mac went into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, and he felt Jack’s warmth right behind him.

“You want me to make breakfast?” Jack asked.

Mac turned around to respond, not bothered by the proximity in the slightest. “Yeah, that would be nice. I think there’s stuff for pancakes.”

With a fond smile Mac watched Jack move around the kitchen, taking out the ingredients and bowls. Mac didn’t even try and offer to help, knowing Jack wouldn’t let him do even the smallest thing—because he was injured, sure, but mostly because Mac was hopeless when it came to making anything in the kitchen, and Mac suspected Jack wasn’t really in the mood for dealing with a fire. Instead Mac hopped on the counter, wincing a little at the ache spreading through his body, and just watched Jack work. He knew every step and knew what Jack was about to do before he did it, but even though he had the process memorized if he tried to make the pancakes himself it would end... badly.

Soon the kitchen was full of the smell of breakfast, and they wound up going out on the back deck to eat and watch the sun rise. They sat on the same side of the picnic table, and Mac had to bite his tongue when their legs pressed together again. It was odd, not to have to worry about accidental touched like that anymore, and like he could read Mac’s mind, Jack nudged Mac’s foot with his own and they both smiled.

Once they were done eating, Mac sipped at his coffee, and voiced a thought that’d been stewing in the back of his mind since the hospital. “I think I know where all this insecurity about how I look started... and I don’t think it was with you. I mean, the stuff you’d say kind of stung, but I didn’t start taking it personally until more recently.” He got up, squeezing Jack’s shoulder briefly, and went into the house. It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, and when he came back outside, he handed Jack a framed photograph. It was him with his parents, when Mac was three or four years old, and the resemblance between him and his mom was almost uncanny. “When my dad and I were arguing in that laboratory, right after he came back? He told me part of the reason he left was because I look so much like my mom. That he couldn’t stand the sight of me after she died.”

Jack looked at him sadly and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, and his eyes widened as if he didn’t mean for the endearment to slip out. Mac didn’t mind, quite the contrary actually, and Jack must’ve seen it in his eyes because he kissed his forehead and then looked back at the photograph. “You were so adorable.” Jack smiled softly, glancing between Mac and the photo. “And your mom was beautiful. Wish I could’ve met her.”

Mac smiled and didn’t care if it hurt. “She would’ve loved you. And... my dad was different back then too.” He sighed a little. “I understand what he meant, but... it’s not like I can control how I look. It just seemed like a shitty excuse, and I shouldn’t really have expected anything better.” He looked at the photo too and felt a pang deep in his chest, like he always did when he thought about his mom. “God, I miss her. She... she did the same thing for my dad that you do for me. Got him out of his head, grounded him when he needed it. Without her... he changed, and not for the better.” Mac realized absently that this was probably the most time he’d spent talking about his parents with Jack, and that seemed... wrong. “My grandfather would’ve liked you too. He was a really cool guy—and unlike my dad, he didn’t care how I looked.” He paused. “When I was a teenager I had a ridiculous amount of hair, and most people told me I should cut it... he just started buying me hair ties.”

Jack let out a surprised laugh, but Mac could tell he wasn’t laughing at him. “You don’t by any chance have any pictures from that time, do you?” he asked teasingly, and Mac immediately shook his head, a smile on his face. Jack chuckled again, hugging Mac closer. “He sounds great. You know... I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about your family that much,” Jack said quietly, evidently coming to the same conclusion as Mac.

“Compared to you? No way,” Mac said, smiling wider. He stood up and offered a hand to Jack. “Come on, I’ll show you something.” He took the picture back inside and set it on the bookcase in the living room, then bent down and pulled out a heavy leather photo album from the bottom shelf, along with a slightly thinner one made from blue fabric. “My mom liked to scrapbook,” he explained, and they sat down on the couch, which also allowed Mac to take half a pain pill. “The blue one is my baby book—okay, Jesus, stop grinning like a maniac—and the other one is just... stuff. Birthdays, a couple trips. My grandfather wasn’t as into keeping mementos as she was, but he does have some pictures—” Including, Mac realized too late, some loose ones at the back of the big album that were all from a science fair he won in high school, where he had hair that went down to his shoulders. “Shit, I thought I burned all of these.”

Jack snatched one of the pictures before Mac could put them away, but he wasn’t fighting him very much. “Oh my god,” Jack chuckled, and Mac groaned, and if his face didn’t hurt he would bury it in his hands. “You were so _precious_ , oh my god.” Jack kept staring at the photo with a huge smile on his face. “Why am I not surprised you won science fair? I bet you won all of them.” Jack looked at for a moment longer before putting it away. “Okay, hoss, time for the baby pictures, hit me.”

Mac sighed the sigh of the long suffering and handed Jack the baby book, smiling at the positively gleeful expression on his face. “I did win them all, and then I started taking classes at the community college when I ran out of AP classes to take in high school,” he said, and he wasn’t bragging, just stating facts. “MIT came after me, not the other way around.” He leaned in to see what pictures Jack was looking at and smiled again. “That was my nursery. My mom painted elephants on the walls because she figured they were gender-neutral, since they didn’t know if they were having a girl or a boy.” He paused before elbowing Jack lightly. “Jeez, when I was a baby you were my age.”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because Jack tensed next to him, freezing completely. Mac frowned a little, leaning closer to Jack and seeing an unreadable expression on his face. Before he could say anything about it, Jack swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “I... I was. Does that... bother you?”

“No,” Mac said, drawing out the single syllable in confusion. He hesitated for just a second before reaching out and taking Jack’s hand, relieved when he threaded their fingers together. For a second he was afraid he’d fucked everything up without meaning to. “Why would it? I don’t care how old you are, Jack.”

“Others might,” Jack said quietly. “Not gonna lie, I did feel like a creepy old man sometimes when I was pining after you from afar,” he sighed, rubbing the back of Mac’s hand with his thumb. “I just don’t want you to... regret it after a while. Realize that maybe that age difference does matter after all.” Mac was processing all of this, but apparently Jack wasn’t done yet. “Your... your dad may not be okay with this,” he added in a whisper, his voice... hesitant and sad.

Mac stared at him for a moment before letting go of Jack’s hand, but only to move the albums out of his lap and on to the coffee table. Then he took a calculated risk and sat in Jack’s lap in their place. “I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks,” he said, smiling when Jack’s gaze snapped up to meet his, his face going slack with shock. He brought up a hand and ran the pads of his fingers over Jack’s stubble, his thumb rubbing over the cleft in Jack’s chin. “I love you, Jack. He’ll either accept that or he won’t, but it isn’t going to change how I feel.”

Jack’s hands gently squeezed Mac’s hips before he wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. He looked up at Mac with eyes full of wonder and Mac realized that while they had different issues, he wasn’t the only one with insecurities in their relationship. “I love you too,” Jack said softly.

After a moment of hesitation Mac leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jack’s cheek and lingering there a little. Mac felt a little fuzziness from the painkiller even though he only took half, but it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation. It also faded out the pain in his face a little bit. He closed his eyes when he leaned in to kiss Jack’s cheek, and when he opened them again he was immediately caught up in Jack’s warm, dark gaze, those eyes looking at him like he was the only person in the world.

“I can see why you had to work so hard to hide how you felt,” Mac whispered, his hand still on Jack’s face, thumb rubbing over his cheekbone. “It’s all just... right there for me to see now.”

“It still doesn’t excuse anything I’ve done,” Jack whispered back, leaning into Mac’s touch. Guilt and regret reappeared on his face and he reached with his hand to brush the hair out of Mac’s eyes, his touch careful and gentle. “You’re way too gracious for letting me... do this,” he said, tightening his arm around Mac, his fingers tugging Mac’s hair behind his ear. “And I know I don’t deserve you, but I... I also can’t live without you.”

Mac smiled and raised an eyebrow. “And did you ever stop to think maybe that feeling went both ways?” he asked, and from the surprise that flashed through Jack’s expression, he guessed the answer to that question was no. He cuddled closer to Jack, pressing another kiss to his cheek before resting his head on his shoulder. “I’m not being too gracious, Jack. I told you you’d have to make it up to me, remember? Now, how about we watch a movie that isn’t _Die Hard_?”

“Sure, we can... we can do that,” Jack said, tightening his arms around him and kissing his forehead before nuzzling his hair for a moment.

They rearranged themselves on the couch so that Mac was curled up against Jack’s side, tucked under his arm. They ended up watching one of the Fast and Furious movies and Mac felt warmer and safer that he had in... a very long time. All of that combined with the pain pill he took earlier made staying awake a bit more difficult that Mac hoped, and about halfway through the movie he felt his eyes starting to drop. Eventually he stopped fighting it and snuggled closer to Jack, closing his eyes and falling asleep a moment later.

~***~

Mac wound up with the next week off work to heal up, and he didn’t know how Jack managed it but he sweet-talked Matty into giving him the week off too. With the exception of a trip out to get clothes from his apartment and some food from the store, Jack spent the entire time with Mac. If Mac was working on his grandfather’s motorcycle, Jack was reading nearby; when Mac started tinkering with a new kind of metal solvent, Jack hung out in the corner and strummed a guitar idly.

They’d taken to sharing Mac’s bed, and every morning Jack woke him with a kiss on the forehead and a murmured, “Hello, beautiful.” It was enough to make Mac’s heart feel like it was going to explode and they hadn’t even kissed yet.

Mac’s face was more or less healed up and tomorrow was their last day off before they had to come back to reality. Mac was mostly happy about it, he missed being busy since he’d never done well with nothing to do... but a part of him didn’t want to go back to work just yet. It’d been nice, basically living with Jack and spending time with him without anyone shooting at them, and now that Mac felt better he’d like to... kiss Jack at least since it was pretty much the only thing he’d been able to think about during the past few days.

He contemplated exactly how he was going to do that while he was in the shower, and when he got out, a towel wrapped around his waist and another drying his hair, he was surprised to see Jack sitting on the edge of his bed. He wore an old AC/DC shirt and a pair of boxers and he should’ve look completely at ease, but instead he seemed... nervous?

“Hey, babe,” Mac said, the endearment slipping out. He’d never really been one to call people by pet names, but Jack was the exception to a lot of his rules. He remembered absently that he was shirtless, bones poking out and moles on display, but it was nothing Jack technically hadn’t seen before. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

Jack’s gaze snapped to him as if Mac had brought him out of a trance or something. “Hmm? Oh yeah, sure, darlin’. I’m good,” Jack said, giving Mac a poor excuse for a smile and not sounding convincing at all.

In response Mac just arched his eyebrow and walked up closer to him, and after a split second of hesitation he sat down next to Jack, trying not to think about his weird body. “Nice try,” Mac commented, taking Jack’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “Wanna answer that again?”

“I... I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve liked being here the past week, with you,” Jack said, nothing but sincerity on his face, and that made Mac feel warm in the best way. He glanced down at Mac’s bare chest, and interestingly, his cheeks flushed pink by the time his eyes tracked back up to Mac’s face. “And I... Jesus Christ this is hard, with you sitting there all naked and pretty.”

Mac choked a little when he heard that and he instantly felt himself blush, his cheeks burning. Jack sounded completely genuine and he said it without a second thought... as if it was the easiest and most obvious thing in the world. Mac ducked his head, biting his bottom lip, and he caught a glimpse of his body, and while he could agree about the naked part, he wasn’t sure about pretty. “You... you really think... never mind.” Mac shook his head a little, focusing on what Jack wanted to say before that comment. “And you...?”

“ _And_ I hope I’ve been able to make up for some of the awful shit I’ve said to you,” Jack said, and he used his other hand to touch Mac’s cheek, which he could do now without worrying if he was going to hurt him. “And yes, I really do think that. You’re absolutely gorgeous, baby.”

Mac met Jack’s gaze and those dark brown eyes watched him with nothing but affection. He turned his head a little to press a kiss to Jack’s lips, feeling his heart hammering inside his chest. “You have,” Mac said with a smile, because it was the truth. Jack worked his ass off to make it up to Mac, dropping compliments in a way that felt genuine and not forced, and Mac wasn’t going to lie... he loved it a lot, even though he still had trouble believing Jack could actually find him attractive. His cheeks were still red, he felt that, but Jack didn’t seem to mind, so Mac wrapped his free arm around his neck, shifting a little closer.

“I’m glad,” Jack whispered, and he wrapped his arms around Mac and returned the favor, kissing him on the mouth.

This one lingered, and Mac used his grip on Jack’s neck to hold him in place, their lips moving together softly. He shivered when he felt Jack’s tongue swipe over his bottom lip and opened up for him, making a small sound in the back of his throat when the kiss got deeper. Kissing Jack felt even better that Mac could ever imagine, and he already knew this was his new favorite thing to do. Their tongues slid together slowly and Mac moaned softly into Jack’s mouth when Jack started stroking his bare back with his hands, rough and dangerous, but so gentle with Mac. In return Mac slid one of his hands down Jack’s chest and abs until he rested it on Jack’s thigh, squeezing a little when Jack’s fingers dig into his skin.

It was Jack who pulled back first, his hands sliding slowly up Mac’s back until they could frame his face. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice scratchy like sandpaper. He pressed another kiss to Mac’s lips. “In the best possible way, but God, it feels like I’m shaking apart inside anytime I get close to you.”

Mac could definitely relate and now that he finally knew how it felt to kiss Jack, he never wanted to stop. He figured that the best way to respond to all of that was to kiss Jack again, so he pulled him closer, pressing their lips together. Jack wrapped his arms around him again and after a moment he broke the kiss, but only to start mouthing at Mac’s jaw, nipping lightly on his skin. Then he moved lower... and started sucking on the mole below Mac’s jaw, the ugly one that he hated. Jack didn’t seem to care though, sucking a bruise right next to it before moving to Mac’s throat, teeth grazing the delicate skin there and making Mac shiver and clutch Jack’s shoulders... and as he felt Jack’s hands explore his back again, one pressing into his lower back... Mac remembered he literally had nothing on except for the damn towel.

“Jack,” Mac said, his voice cracking on that single word, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t you think this is a little unfair?” Jack made a questioning sound, his lips too busy mouthing over Mac’s pulse where it hammered away in his neck. Mac moved his hands down from Jack’s shoulders to tug at the hem of his t-shirt. “I’m barely wearing anything, and you’re dressed.”

Jack smiled against his skin and pulled back long enough to yank his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside and revealing his perfectly sculpted chest and torso. Mac looked him up and down and then they both leaned in at the same time, crashing their lips together in a hungry kiss. It was more heated than the previous ones, all teeth and tongue from the start, and Mac groaned loudly when Jack tightened his one arm around his waist, using the other one to brace against the mattress and move Mac up the bed as if he weighed absolutely nothing. He gently pushed Mac on his back before crawling on top of him, giving him a short, hard kiss before attaching his lips to his neck again, biting down before moving lower to Mac’s collarbone.

Mac was... distracted, to say the least, so it took him a moment to realize that there was a pattern to the kissing and licking and nipping Jack did, beyond the fact that each one was moving progressively lower: he was mapping out Mac’s freckles and moles with his mouth. And that... that was unexpected, and a little confusing, because why would Jack want to do that? Mac didn’t get much time to contemplate it because soon enough Jack’s lips were on his hipbone right above the towel, and he looked up at Mac with a question in his eyes, his hands running up and down Mac’s thighs.

Jack’s eyes were dark with arousal, but there was also affection shining in them along with it, and Mac swallowed hard before nodding. “Yeah, Jack, go... go ahead,” he stuttered out, and then Jack kissed his hipbone again before unwrapping Mac from the towel.

Mac raised his hips a little so that Jack could tug it from under him, and once the towel was discarded somewhere on the floor Jack gave Mac’s cock a long lick before wrapping his fingers around the base and taking the head into his mouth. Mac gasped in a breath, his hips twitching involuntarily. Jack put a forearm across his lower belly and held him down, again with almost no effort, and Mac felt a spike of arousal. He loved how strong Jack was, because unlike someone like Ivanov he knew Jack would never hurt him.

“Jack, oh God,” Mac breathed out when Jack took more of the shaft in his mouth, tongue curling around Mac’s length. He sank down to the level of his fingers and then took them away, letting the head of Mac’s cock hit the back of his throat and swallowing. Mac moaned when Jack’s throat fluttered around his cock, and his hips tried to twitch again, but Jack had him firmly pinned down to the mattress. He hummed around Mac’s cock and then started bobbing his head up and down, and Mac was afraid he would pass out. Jack’s throat was hot and wet around Mac’s cock, and he kept swallowing around him and Mac couldn’t take it anymore. “J-Jack, babe,” he panted, resting one of his hands on the back of Jack’s neck. “If you... if you don’t slow down this is going to end very soon.”

Jack pulled off Mac’s cock and gave it a parting lick before he crawled up his body, Mac’s legs spreading to accommodate the breadth of his hips. He pressed a kiss to Mac’s jaw, then his cheek, then his lips. “What did you have in mind, darlin’?” he asked, voice rumbling against Mac’s chest. He felt how hard Jack was, his boxer clad erection pressed up against Mac’s hip.

Mac exhaled shakily, framing Jack’s face with his hands and pulling him down for another kiss. He parted his lips, letting Jack’s tongue explore his mouth, and he started running his hands up and down Jack’s muscled back until one of his hands slid to grope Jack’s ass. Jack groaned into Mac’s mouth, pushing back into Mac’s touch, and after a moment Mac slipped his fingers under the waistband of his boxers. “How about you... inside me?”

Jack pulled back enough to look at Mac’s face, something like wonder gleaming in his eyes. “Okay, baby,” he whispered, and he pressed another kiss to Mac’s lips like he couldn’t resist the temptation. “Do you have—”

“Yeah, hang on,” Mac replied, and he flailed for the nightstand drawer as Jack pressed feather light kisses against his neck and ear.

He yanked out a tube of lube and a strip of condoms and tossed the latter on the bed, pressing the tiny bottle into Jack’s big hand. He used his other hand to yank down Jack’s underwear so he can kick them off. Jack squeezes some lube on his fingers and then slid his hand lower. A moment later Mac felt his finger circle his hole teasingly before pushing inside and Mac gasped loudly, hands gripping Jack’s shoulder. Slowly, Jack started moving his finger back and forth and then Mac threw his head back with a moan when Jack added a second finger.

“You’re beautiful,” Jack murmured, spreading his fingers a little, stretching Mac out. His thumb traced over Mac’s rim teasingly, and then he crooked his fingers and brushed Mac’s prostate. Mac’s whole body shuddered, his cock twitching against his belly. “I know I’ve been saying that a lot, to make up for lost time, but I really mean it, Mac. You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” He twisted his fingers and plunged a third one in to join the first two, which made Mac practically writhe underneath him.

Mac really wanted to say something in response to that, but words weren’t working right now. Instead he wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him in an uncoordinated kiss, moaning when Jack’s fingers nudged his prostate again. His heart was pounding wildly and he was basically vibrating with lust, and despite his body being on full display for the first time he didn’t care. “Please, Jack,” he begged, whispering against Jack’s mouth. “Jack, I’m... please.”

“Shhh, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Jack assured softly, and he pulled his fingers out carefully, shushing Mac again when he whimpered at the sudden emptiness. “Baby, do you want a condom? I’m clean, but—”

“No, no,” Mac cut him off, shaking his head and dragging Jack down for another messy kiss. “Just want you. I’m clean too.”

“Okay,” Jack whispered against Mac’s lips. “Okay, darlin’,” he repeated, and it sounded like he’s trying to get his shit together. After a moment Jack kissed Mac’s cheek and reached for the lube again, and once he coated himself in it he lined up, the head of his cock pressing against Mac’s entrance. Slowly, he started pushing in and Mac instinctively tensed, his lips parting as Jack’s cock stretched him in the best way. “Relax, darlin’,” Jack whispered in his ear, his voice strained. “And breathe.” Mac let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and wrapped his arms around Jack’s body, tugging him closer, fingers digging into his shoulder blades. “You feel so good,” Jack said lowly, pushing in further, slow and steady. “You’re so good for me, Mac.” It felt like an eternity before Jack bottomed out, sliding his arms between Mac and the mattress to hold him close in return, lips kissing at his birthmark, then trailing back up to his mouth.

The kiss was surprisingly soft and gentle considering their current positioning, and when Jack pulled back he looked at Mac with so much love in his eyes it almost made Mac tear up. “You can move,” he whispered, and Jack exhaled shakily before kissing his cheek, then his jaw as he slowly drew his hips back and pushed back in.

It felt... euphoric, being connected to Jack like this, like this was always how they were supposed to be. One of Jack’s hands slid down to grab Mac’s thigh and hitch it up, changing the angle slightly and making Mac see stars the next time Jack thrusted in. Jack groaned and buried his face in Mac’s neck, kissing at his throat as he kept thrusting, slow and deep. He picked up his pace just a little and had Mac scrabbling at Jack’s back, gasping for breath as each thrust drove him up the mattress a little, even with Jack holding him tightly.

“Jack, Jack, oh god,” Mac moaned when Jack thrusted into him harder, and Jack nipped on his throat in response, squeezing Mac’s thigh so tightly it was definitely going to bruise.

Jack kept a steady pace, his thrusts hard and deep, and Mac’s never felt this good in his entire life. Breathless gasped are being punched out of him now with every slam of Jack’s hips and Mac could only hold on to Jack and let him take whatever he wanted from him. “Jesus, baby, look at you,” Jack whispered against Mac’s neck, pressing kissed wherever he could reach. “You’re so beautiful, so stunning like this.”

Mac felt his face flush red, and he brought his hands up to frame Jack’s face and pull him in for a kiss. “You’re crazy,” he whispered back, moaning again from another direct hit to his prostate. He was so close, he felt the warm beginning to unspool at the base of his spine.

Jack let out a hoarse chuckle, nipping his bottom lip before he buried his face in Mac’s shoulder. “Yeah, crazy about you,” he said, and squeezed Mac’s thigh, pounding into him again and again. “Come for me, Mac. Let me see how pretty you get when you scream my name.”

Mac whimpered loudly when Jack’s hips sped up, slamming into Mac again and again. “Jack, Jack,” he moaned, wrapping his arms around Jack’s back, pulling him as close as possible.

It only took a few more of these brutal thrusts for Mac to come harder than ever in his life, arching in pleasure under Jack and crying out his name. Jack fucked him through it until Mac was completely boneless and pliant in his arms, and he kept pounding into him, eventually coming with a deep groan, biting down on Mac’s shoulder as he filled him up with his come. Mac’s breathing was ragged and uneven in the wake of that orgasm, which was easily the best one he’d ever had. He skimmed a hand down Jack’s back, smiling faintly when Jack’s hand unclenched from around his thigh and smoothed over the bruise he left behind. Jack pressed his lips against Mac’s collarbone but didn’t speak, clearly still trying to catch his breath.

“That was amazing,” Mac told him, lips brushing Jack’s temple. “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Jack said after a moment, lifting his head to look down at Mac. He took one of his hands and brushed the hair out of Mac’s eyes, watching him with a soft smile on his face. He leaned down to give him a sweet kiss before kissing his cheek, his jaw and finally his birthmark, as if he knew how much it bothered Mac. “I meant every word, you know,” Jack said quietly, lying back on top of Mac, kissing the bite mark he left on his shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

Mac swallowed hard and felt tears prick his eyes, but this time it wasn’t a bad thing. “I... I believe you,” he whispered. “Not... I don’t think I’ll ever look in the mirror and think that about myself, but I believe that _you_ think that.” He slid his hand up to cup the back of Jack’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “So, should I grow my hair out like I did in high school?”

Jack grinned in response, leaning down to kiss him again. “Sure, if you want to,” he muttered against Mac’s lips, sliding one of his hands up into Mac’s hair. He tangled his fingers in it and tugged gently, and Mac couldn’t help but gasp quietly, his whole body shivering. Jack pulled back a little to look at Mac with an arched eyebrow and a smirk on his lips. “Something you failed to mention, baby?”

“Maybe,” Mac said, his voice cracking a little. He moved his hands down to Jack’s ass and squeezed, grinning when it makes his hips twitch involuntarily. “Looks like we both have secrets.”

Jack rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, and since he’d slipped out of Mac by now it didn’t take much for him to shift them so they were on their sides, with Jack spooned up behind Mac so he could press a kiss to the back of his neck. “They’re not secrets,” he said, the pleasant rumble of his voice hitting Mac’s back this time. “Just things we get to learn about each other.”


End file.
